What is the greatest gift?
Could it be the world itself – the oceans, the meadowlark,
the patience of the trees in the wind?
Could it be love, with its sweet clamour of passion?
Something else – something else entirely
holds me in thrall.
That you have a life that I wonder about
more than I wonder about my own.
That you have a life – courteous, intelligent –
that I wonder about more than I wonder about my own.
That you have a soul – your own, no one else’s –
that I wonder about more than I wonder about my own.
So that I find my soul clapping its hands for yours
more than my own.